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2013.05.29 - Clash in a Copse
Central Park. Throughout time the park has been a central location for many citizens of this busy industrial zone. A beautiful piece of property that has remained untouched (in a manner of speaking) by the rising skyscrapers, and constant changing landscape. Currently as the weather turns from the spring rains, to the beginning bits of summer fun, the park is even more active than usual. Hundreds of people meander through, looking at the different tourist attractions, (or traps), and simply enjoying the nice, fresh air that the park brings. Sadly, this type of atmosphere also brings out the -worst- in humanity as well, for where there are ignorant tourists, there are those that will do their best to strip those tourists of their money, purses, wallets, and belongings. The tall, six foot four red head that quietly walks through along a path is fairly oblivious to anything but the small computer that she holds within her hands. Her steps are taken with an easy gait, slow and careful, just enjoying the fresh air combined with the forest like surroundings. It reminds her of her home back in Portland, and is a place she's gone to many a day. Naturally, with her head looking down at the tablet in her fingers, her perception is fairly off, like the fact she's meandering towards a darker part of the park, and a pack of young hoodlums have taken quite a notice in the leggy red-head that seems utterly oblivious to her surroundings. This sunny day finds Kent Shakespeare of the Legion of Super-Heroes in Central Park as well. Having the entire afternoon to himself he has found a spot on the Great Lawn -- across a nearby pathway from the statue of Alexander Hamilton -- and made a pillow out of his jacket. Laying on the ground, with his arms crossed between his jacket and head, he is gazing up into the sky watching the clouds float by. He seems to be unaware of the sampling of humanity moving around him through the park, but appearances can sometimes be deceiving. The deceptiveness of this is shown true when a youthful bicyclist nearly plows into an elderly pedestrian. As quick as a bolt out of the blue, leaving his jacket behind, Kent is there preventing the near accident from occurring. After accepting the thanks of the woman -- likely in her sixties -- and politely admonishing the boy about bicycle safety, Kent returns to fetch his jacket and begins to walk across the lawn towards the Turtle Pond and Belvedere Castle. It is then that he notices the statuesque red-head and the small mob of miscreants she has unknowingly attracted the attention of. As she is not in distress he only slightly quickens his pace, still walking but travelling at a speed that would require the average child to begin to run to keep up with him. With a soft sigh of defeat, Caitlin's gaze finally lifts long enough from her tablet to view the path ahead, making certain that she is still traveling in a direction that will lead her (eventually) to her destination, and then returns to the game that is keeping her attention. As a wind picks up, one hand lifts upwards, idly pushing aside a stray strand of hair that has managed to get into her face, and yet - right afterwards, her fingers return to the tiny blue tablet. A very faint sound of some facebook game or another drifts along with the tablet, a chipper little note of mindless enjoyment, and simple fun. As no one is about currently, or at least so Caitlin thinks, a quiet humming noise emits from the red-head, a silly pop song or another that she hums aloud, one of those inane tunes that you get stuck in the head, and can't quite get it out for ages (or so it seems). And of course, any singing involved Caitlin uses the wrong lyrics and sadly can't carry a tune to save her life. Still utterly oblivious to her surroundings, as Caitlin moves further into the depths of a small grove of trees, the hoodlums make a point of waiting until there isn't a single person about before suddenly the red-head finds herself ... facing down a large group of young men. Her steps pause a beat, as her gaze moves from the tablet, to a pair of shoes that appear in front of her. Initially the tune goes something akin to, 'humm - yah in the day'.. "Oh... excu..." At the last unfinished part of her words, the red-head's gaze flickers upwards, emerald eyes scanning the five young men in brightly colored 'gang' style jackets, and her face goes from slightly embarrassed at nearly walking into someone -- into a startled expression of surprise. And the young men..? Just snigger. "Hand over your wallet, the tablet, and everything else, " As the two legged jackals calling themselves youths close on the red-head, Kent also makes his move. With a quick, "Here kids, hold this for me," he tosses the jacket he had been leisurely holding over his shoulder towards a group of children playing with a Frisbee. Without waiting to see if they catch it -- one of them actually does, more due to Kent's accuracy then any great effort on the girl's part -- he breaks into a run. As he breaks into the dash he kicks up a cloud of dirt and loose grass and a seems to leave a green streak in the air behind him in the form of vegetation though into the air behind him, floating lazily to the ground after his passing. In the blink of an eye two of the half dozen gang bangers are caught up in his grip and deposited across the laps of mounted policemen who were riding by the boathouse. "Gentlemen, there are four more of these thugs accosting a woman back there in the wooded area, I welcome your assist," Kent says to the slack jawed cops with a smile and a salute before he dashes off again to where the confrontation is occurring. The young child who caught the jacket gazes at it with wide eyed, and youthful enthusiasm. "Coooool." She states happily, and proceeds to put it on, demonstrating how awesome it is to her friends, who immediately want to try it on /themselves/. And of course, being a child, the young girl refuses - but soon relents to her friends persistence...and the trying on commences. Meanwhile, without warning, and within the blink of an eye, the hoodlums are now down /two/ from their original six. A feat that has the young gang members initially utterly oblivious. No, they're far more interested in what Caitlin is going to do, as her gaze sweeps from one to another and.. pauses to recount. Wasn't there six before? Rather than fumbling for her wallet, or cell phone, or anything else her backpack might carry, the red-head stands her ground, slowly lowering the tablet to her side, as she lets out a soft breath. "Is this really the life that you want to lead?" She inquires, long dark eyelashes lowering over her emerald eyes as she turns her gaze from one youth to another. "Stealing from people? Hurting them? There are so many opportunities that you can have these days, you don't need to hurt people - to have a thrill. There are sports, and.." And the one that spoke initially just spits towards Caitlin. "Shut the up, , and hand over your pack before I cut you the , up!" And proceeds to pull out a switch blade that flashes to life in his hand. The red-head's response is to quietly state, "If you're so sure the others agree, you might notice you're down two from your original six." At /that/ point - naturally, the four remaining hoodlums look around and count, the cussing that begins is fairly horrendous. Leaving the police in his dust -- quite literally -- Kent runs back into the Brambles and, slowing down as he approaches, comes to a stop in time to both hear the end of the exchange and be there with they look around. "Plus, the lady's not as alone as you thought boys," he says calmly in his rich baritone voice. He then smiles at them after winking at Caitlin. At the sound of the voice - all heads turn, and the cussing ceases - at least for a moment as it registers just who it is that is now speaking. For the hoodlums, who have heard of this new Legion, or at least heard rumors and speculation. Three of the youths begin to slowly step backwards. The one with the switch blade starts to speak. "L...Look man.." His gaze flickers towards Caitlin again, then back to Kent. "I .. I'll cut her up. Slicer her to pieces, you just... stay back.." As the 'leader' waves the knife in Caitlin's direction, the red-head just sighs quietly, a fairly morose expression on her features. Her head swivels just enough to view Kent, while still keeping an eye on the youths. "Thank you, very much, for the back-up." She states, the morose expression lifting into a quiet smile, before turning back to the gang members. "Perhaps it is best that you simply walk away now, and rethink your life." Caitlin's going to let them leave, though of course, bad guys and kids hyped up on one thing or another never do listen. Three of the youths are only too happy to begin to escape, only to hear the sound of mounted police dashing to the rescue, who shall easily catch and grab the three youths. As for the 'leader'? The one sweating bullets? In an almost slow motion action (perhaps to Kent), the one with the blade begins to lunge towards Caitlin, the knife outstretched as though to jab it through her stomach. A broad smile spreads across Kent's face as the leggy red-head extends him her thanks. "All in a day's work really, but it is totally my pleasure at the same time," he manages to say without stumbling over his words. When the trio run off he does nothing to stop them, especially with the sound of approaching horses and people indicating the arrival of the additional backup he'd requested from New York's finest. Then there is the knife. To Kent's chagrin he actually forgot about it for a moment because of smile he perceived to be hidden in the stern expression she was holding for the benefits of the gang. It catches the light filtering through the leaves above as the leader of the toughs goes to stap Caitlin and Kent cries out, "Watch out!" as he foresees a nasty gut wound he'll be tending to before the concussion he is likely to give the wielder of the knife gets looked into. However, even as Kent is swinging to clock the attacker across the back of the head with a -- for someone of his strength -- light smack, the knife bends like putty as the Amazonian woman catches it in her hand and wraps her fingers around it. "Wow," is uttered by Kent even as the ganger says "Wha-?" only to be interrupted by the quite forceful hit to the occipital bun. An expression of anger rises through the red-head as the hoodlum attacks -- even after she was polite, even after she obviously had powered back-up, even after she told them they could go and she wouldn't press charges. Some people just don't understand, or listen, and that sends a fairly stern glare towards the youth. When the knife is swept towards her, Caitlin's only reaction is to show she isn't just a wall-flower, fingers grabbing hold of the blade, snapping it firmly within her grasp. Not even a smidge of blood drips from her skin, no cut, no scratch, not even a dent is made, as the tall red-head's hand crushes the knife into tiny bits of wood, metal, and plastic. The once intimidating weapon drops to the ground as Caitlin's hand opens upwards, her emerald eyes blazing with indignation. Though -- really, Caitlin doesn't have to worry about it, as the Legionnaire is able to easily send the youth to the ground. A rush of air escapes Caitlin's lungs, as her gaze flickers towards Kent. Her upper teeth begin to maul heavily upon her bottom lip, as she moves to step onto the blade, crunching the remaining pieces beneath her hush puppies. "Th... thank you for the help, again." She stutters out, unsure how to really respond about her reaction, only to continue mauling down upon her lower lip a moment, before clearing her throat. It isn't every day she gets to meet a true super hero, after all. "I... I'm Caitlin. Caitlin Fairchild." Again -- her voice is slightly stuttered, voice quiet and soft. Her gaze flickers to her hands, and then to survey the slight strain her powers gave on her clothing - slacks stretched ever so slightly at the seams, shirt hanging a bit looser than it should -- as though the fabric has been stretched just a smidge. Having been doing the heroing thing for half a decade, Kent manages to cover up most of the flutteriness he is feeling and the school boyish glint in his eyes behind a warm smile and the blessedly darkened lenses of his glasses. He extends his hand in greeting as he introduces himself. "I'm Kent Shakespeare. Richard Kent Shakespeare actually, but you can just call me Kent." Behind him the trio have been detained by the authorities and a couple of officers trample though the brush to check on the three people they find -- paying particular attention to the young criminal laying semi-conscious on the ground near Kent's feet. With a graceful extending of her hand, Caitlin's fingers wrap about Kent's hand, offering a light shake, as a soft smile spreads itself over her features. "It's an honor to meet you, Kent." She offers, emerald eyes twinkling with delight. After all - it isn't every day that she is able to actually gaze at someone eye to eye! It's a thrilling prospect, something she didn't realize she missed so much. About to say -more- or at least, try to, (all things considered), when the police turn their questions towards Caitlin and what transpired. Apologetically, it is Caitlin's duty as a citizen to answer the questions and put the youths where they belong (in jail for a day at least), so she turns to the police officers, "I'll.. be with you in a moment, officers." And resumes her attention back to Kent. "I.. perhaps I might be able to buy you a soda some day and thank you for your help and… explain a few things." The mauling of her lip show she isn't quite sure how to proceed to say how she was able to handle the knife, so for that... Caitlin leaves for another day. Her fingers pull lose a small card that she hands over to Kent, it's simple enough - card stock she printed from her own computer, offering her name, place of employment and other information. With a quiet wave of her hand, Caitlin's drawn towards where the officers can offer a proper questioning of the events and make the correct arrest of the suspects. Kent's grasp of Caitlin's hand lingers for a moment as does his acknowledgement of the police. Before stepping aside for the officers to interview Caitlin he says, "I'd like that. The Legionnaires are listed so you can call me though our headquarters. Remember, its Kent," to her. He then steps over where directed and submits to his own interview, producing his registration card and giving the general run down of personal information and his recounting of the events. Once this is over he waves in Caitlin's direction before taking to the air and flying southwards towards his 20th century home. Category:Log